Smile for Me
by Troublesome Dragon
Summary: They say I've gone mad and that deep down, I'm really very sad. They're wrong. I've won. So, please just smile, you're going to be stuck with me for quite a while. Now, it's been a few weeks, and I'm getting bored. England, you're way too hard to please, and playing with Russia isn't what it used to be. I can't possibly stay with damsels all day, so won't you join me and play?
1. Smile

Smile

Have you ever wondered what the end of the world would be like? Contrary to popular belief, it has nothing to do with destruction. No, not at all, destroyed things can be rebuilt. Rather, instead, it has to do with creation. Some new thing takes the place of this other thing and so on and so forth. Today, I am the thing to be replaced.

He's smiling. He's always smiling. Oh and before you say a word, I am not talking about Russia. I believe you know him as the hero. Take all notions of that out of your head, nothing here is what it appears to be. America's sporting a navy uniform today. Perhaps, he's mocking me or maybe, he genuinely believes that wearing it pleases me in some way. He walks right past me and turns on the sound system. He cranks up the volume all the way and a familiar tune starts to play.

I can't bring myself to be bothered by it. I'm tied and gagged in my own house, and all the world has fallen to pieces. Going deaf will only be a nail in the coffin, I may even be humming along in spite of myself. Only when he confronts me directly do I react at all.

"I can't decide whether you should live or die," he says, grabbing hold of my chin and tilting it up. When my eyes meet his, I can't even muster up a glare. His expression is surprisingly non threatening, despite the lyrics.

I am not given time to dwell on it. He spins me around, and it doesn't phase me. He will likely continue to spin me till I puke, but he stops the chair from spinning and takes firm hold of my shoulders. I honestly don't know why until I feel an involuntarily desire to spread my wings- my horrifically delicate wings. I can't help myself, and they appear because he wanted them to. He's quick to seize the most sensitive part, the area that attaches the wings to my spine. I flinch, anticipating the sickening crunch that is sure to follow. Except, it doesn't happen. He bends down and whispers the next verse right into my ear.

"Oh, you'll probably go to heaven ~ "

And as if he planned the choreography beforehand, he makes good use of his newfound power over me to raise my wings as high as they'll go. Then, he releases my wings, just like that, skipping to his next target as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred at all. I should be relieved he didn't snap them off like twigs, but the display only demoralizes me further. I'm a plaything surrounded by a bunch of other toys.

Speaking of his other toys, he gladly releases the chain holding the cage above us afloat. Amy shrieks as the cage falls with a heavy thud. (Or Amelia, really, he stopped calling her by her real name ages ago.) She's too busy recovering from the fall to put up much of a fight this time. She's too disoriented. So, he easily pulls her closer and secures her face in his hands.

"Please don't hang your head and cry."

Of course, that's not quite the reaction he is getting. She has the decency to look angry before he crushes his lips to hers. The poor girl certainly didn't want the attention. She just had the unfortunate luck of having Amelia Earhart's face.

"No wonder why, my heart feels dead inside."

There's a flicker of regret when he pulls away. She's struggling like a wounded animal. For a moment, I think he might snap out of it. He pushes her lips up as if he is trying to get her to smile. He doesn't succeed. America lets go of her face and deliberately makes her fall on her ass. And as if to let her know the feeling is mutual, he kicks the cage as far from him as possible. When the cage hits the wall full force, Amy loses consciousness. America doesn't do a thing to help her. No, instead he sings the next phrase gleefully.

"It's cold and hard and petrified."

He keeps moving forward without missing a beat, circling the poor actors that had the misfortune of being associated with the stolen blue box beside me. America takes the scarf from the fourth doctor, parading it around before wrapping it around Russia's neck. Ivan's own scarf is missing for some reason. Soon after, I realize that America is using the scarf to gag Annie although the necklace around her neck clearly reads Anastasia because she is yet another reincarnated Barbie doll for him to play with. I'm not surprised that he brought this particular doll with him to piss off Russia. Unlike the others, she is timid and a natural favorite plaything for America. Ivan can't do a thing though because unlike me he's thoroughly bound and gagged. (Is it sad that I'm relieved? America obviously plans to go to Moscow soon.)

"Lock the doors and close the blinds, we're going for a ride."

Still, no matter who he might toy with in his spare time, I will become a target sooner or later. And as if he knows what I'm thinking, he turns the music down and stops singing along. He's bored. Naturally, America's attention returns to me. He's laughing but the laughter ends when he sees my face. There isn't a hint of emotion present. There hasn't been for a while.

"Come on, not even a little smile?" he asks. I wonder when he became so obsessed with smiling. He wheels me over to where the doctors are. And, my stomach flips. I have a bad feeling.

"One of these has got to be your favorite."

The conversation remains one sided. He might let them go if I don't show any interest. He frowns when it becomes clear I won't be answering. Strange, I haven't seen him frown in a long time. I thought he couldn't anymore. In the same way, I couldn't smile, even if I wanted to.

"Don't tell me it's one of the dead ones. I haven't quite learned how to reanimate dead bodies yet, but I will if that's what you want."

I don't respond to that either. There are enough hostages on my floor, and that wasn't even taking into account just how repulsive I found the idea. You do not raise the dead for no good reason.

"What about the skinny Scottish one?" Oddly enough, he does take off the gag, hoping the actor will play along. When he does speak, I have to keep from laughing. His response is funny in a sad way.

"I'm really starting to hate this song."

America scowls and puts the gag back on.

"You know what, you have enough issues with Scotland."

I'm wheeled away to my next destination, the Tardis. He spins me around some more, making the whirring noises the police box is supposed to make.

"What about this? Please tell me, you like this at least. There was a ridiculous amount of security protecting it. By the way, it is_ so_ not bigger on the inside."

I roll my eyes. Maybe, he has lost his grip on reality. America gets impatient and snaps his fingers. The Tardis and the doctors disappear. Hopefully, they all return home safely and don't end up some place wretched. He can't be that deranged yet. America puts his hands on his hips and sighs.

"I really thought that would do it." He purses his lips and eyes me critically.

"I suppose my presentation was lacking. Tell you what, I was going to save this for your birthday, but since you're being such a fuddy duddy, I might as well give her to you now."

Oh no, not another one, how many more hostages is he going to take? Is he going for the record or some other such nonsense? A door appears, one that definitely wasn't there before. Great, he is warping reality again.

America wastes no time untying me, but then again, all he really has to do is toss the rope aside. He already knows I won't leave. I don't have anywhere else to go. I am herded into the room, not that I struggled at all. There is no point. When I'm forced to look up, the bubble world is surprisingly nondescript. The illusion isn't anything grand, just a field. Then again, it's meant to be a prison. The prisoner in question completely ruins any semblance of indifference I had to the situation. I've been bombarded by her image a thousand times. I am not even sure it's her. Paintings don't tend to be accurate after all. In fact, the person I'm picturing is probably an actress.

"Elizabeth?"

The name slips out. I blink slowly comprehending what I've done. Bollocks, I reacted when I shouldn't have. America brightens and puts an arm around my neck, easily reigning me in.

"It's Elly actually, but you can call her anything you want."

Of course, I can. She's my doll now because I had one moment of weakness. I have doomed her, and yet, there is a fundamental difference between her and the other dolls. While America takes pleasure in commanding and subduing conscious dolls, this doll is lifeless and completely empty of thought. She sits there limply, looking down at the unopened book in her hands, eyes clearly unfocused. Considering who this person used to be, that glassy eyed look is unsettling. I'm hoping America has placed her in some sort of trance to keep her complacent because that at least is reversible. Completely repairing a broken soul is understandably harder.

"I don't want her," I say, hoping this is enough to convince him that she isn't worth keeping around to torment me. America smirks and puts a hand over his ear.

"What was that? I don't think I heard right."

Stupid git is going to milk this for all it is worth, but if I don't comply, the consequences will be much worse . France's small but deliberate acts of defiance had all but doomed Lisa to share the same fate as her predecessor, all while Burn Baby Burn played on the speakers. I look down at my feet and say it again. It isn't near as convincing.

"I don't want her."

America tsks me. Again, he whispers in my ear. Somehow, he manages to sound much more sinister than before. My blood runs cold. This is the first time in weeks he sounds remotely angry.

"Do you think I'm stupid?"

"I don't want her."

So long as I keep saying it, he will eventually have to believe me. My persistence pays off sooner than expected. This time, he only seems dumbfounded. Apparently, it has never crossed his mind that I might not want a toy of my own.

"Huh."

He waves his fingers in front of me, releasing bits of magic. I might have moved, but his arm is like a pair of shackles keeping me in place. Tiny bits of magic dust invade my senses and I sneeze, successfully removing some of the dust making its way inside. America does not stop sprinkling magic on me. I continue to sneeze, but the magic infiltrates my body anyway. I stop sneezing, feeling thoroughly congested by the end of it and dizzy. Who knew power could make one feel weak? Much worse than the fatigue is the knowledge that the magic isn't mine to control, it is like attaching literal puppet strings onto my body.

"Are you sure?" he asks. I nod, but America doesn't like hearing the word no. He subtly tilts my head up so I am looking at her instead of my shoes. I'm unsure why I originally picked the latter over the former. She is a brilliant young lady, and while I have no idea at this point in my life if she really looked like that, she is in no way an unpleasant sight. Her red hair is loosely tied in a pony tail, and she is wearing a plain white dress both of which are quite obviously attempts to emphasize her virginity. It disturbs me that America even thought to dress her this way instead of in an ornate gown.

"Go talk to her."

I don't need to be told twice. She is just sitting there like a flower to be picked. I start hearing America's words echo in my head. _Talk to her. Talk to her. Talk to her. Nothing will go wrong. I promise. You love her. Be happy. _

When I reach her, Alfred snaps his fingers. Elly looks up. I'm relieved.

"Arthur."

I hesitate, weary of how she addressed me. Clearly, America has prepped her for the meeting beforehand. I never told Elizabeth my other name.

_If we are supposedly married, why on earth would you want to know me as a man? The point is to spur others advances, yes? There is no need for any added complications._

So, I stand there like an idiot. She continues to smile at me as if she is used to this. She puts the book down and takes hold of my hand. I don't take the hint. The voice gets louder._ Get closer. Get closer._ _Get closer. Forget you wanted anything else. Is it so hard to give up? Be happy, give up, forget._

"Don't be shy, sit down and have some fun. I have business in Moscow."

He pats my back once and turns around. I barely register his departure. It suddenly doesn't seem so important, not even when he locks me in the reality bubble. I do as I am told and sit down next to her. She never lets go of my hand. And more noticeably, she scoots closer, laying her head on my shoulder. This is a little more . . . forward than I am used to. The words start to repeat and multiply in my head like a virus, until they turn into other words and attempt to ingrain themselves into my psyche.

_Be happy, give up, forget. Be happy, give up, forget. Be happy, give up, forget. Be happy, give up, forget. Be happy, give up, forget. Be happy, give up, forget. Be happy, give up, forget, You lost, give up, forget. You lost, give up, forget. You lost, give up, forget. You lost, give up, forget. Be happy. She's here. I could have killed her. Smile, at least once, please. It's over. I won. _

She starts to read the story out loud. For the life of me, I can't understand a word she says over the jumbled mess in my head. I close my eyes. Maybe, I should give up. Elly hits me. I find this odd. I had been so sure she was brainwashed into being a pleasant little trollop.

"Don't fall asleep on me,"

I open my eyes. She's frowning and indignant. I can't help but smile.

"Who are you, really?" A simple question but the answer will give me a better idea if she can be trusted or not. Treason is a dangerous thing.

"Your Queen."

I scoff. So, the situation is hopeless, completely and utterly hopeless. Anyone that cocky isn't going to be of any use to me. Above all, Elizabeth the first had been cautious.

"Now, I know you're delusional. That relationship ended more than 400 years ago. You have no more authority over me than . . ."

" The psychotic half pint, you insisted on keeping," Elly says, daring me to disagree. The comment catches me off guard. At the time, America was more of an afterthought and not yet secured. In fact, she found the fact that I went out of my way to visit a little boy from time to time amusing.

" You were on your death bed. America was cute and going to make me lots of money. Wait a minute, what am I saying? You're a sixteen year old girl, not the bloody queen of England. I don't need to justify myself to you."

And yet for all my rambling, she only needs to smile once to remind me that it wasn't entirely luck that kept Elizabeth in power and let me prosper. She isn't easily intimidated.

"Eighteen,"

"Whatever, so, what did he brainwash you into thinking-"

"Trust me, I'm not the one he's trying to brainwash," she says, giving me a side long glance. I understand her intent all too well. I shake my head. I'm fully aware of what he's trying to do. The fact I'm not a brainwashed happy idiot yet is driving him nuts.

"I'll be fine. I'm more worried about you lot. Humans are fragile,"

I fully expect her to hit me again She doesn't, at all. In fact, she seems frustrated but unwilling to lash out at me directly.

"That's what he's counting on. You haven't even tried to escape have you? It probably didn't even cross your mind when he left."

"Well I-"

"Was distracted? I didn't realize the lap dog rumors were true," she says. Any potential affection I might have had for her rapidly diminishes, and I remember why exactly I spent so much time at sea. Elizabeth liked to chastise me more often than not, and I absolutely hated it. I will not take that form of abuse from a teenage girl that I have no reason trust.

"You're not Elizabeth."

I can't let myself believe that, or I'm no better than what America has become. She is a girl. A girl I can't drag into the global mess that has become this America's playground.

"No, I'm Elly. He thought I would be a bit more stimulating to talk to if he inserted some of her personality into me," she said, like it is nothing. As if, she really is a doll to be played with. I feel sick.

"Inserted?" She might as well be a computer program.

"It's nothing to concern yourself with. Making me more desirable is just one of the many ways he's trying to please you, it's an advantage you shouldn't take lightly," she says, again dismissing what happened. The situation might make me uncomfortable, but she brings up an interesting point, one that absolutely baffles me, The old me would cast it off as ridiculous, but the new me is grasping at straws and listening to a possibly brainwashed teenage girl. I can't accept it.

"What are you going on about?"

"Funny, you didn't seem so thick in the flashbacks. You seriously haven't noticed?" she says, grinning despite the levity of the situation.

I have noticed, and it makes me all the more paranoid that the moment I smile any leverage I have will be gone. And maybe, the reason I am his current favorite is because I'm the only one left visibly miserable, and that is enough to retain his interest right now.

"That he spends a majority of his time torturing me? That's nothing new."

Why else would he put so much effort into manipulating me if not to make me miserable? He might be insane, but on some level, he must realize kidnapping someone wasn't going to put a smile on my face and neither was stealing the odd knick knack or bauble.

"I'm going to ignore the fact you consider him showering you with gifts as torturous," she says wryly.

"Psychotic gifts, besides, there's no point discussing it. He's won. Why bother giving him something he wants?"

If I smile, he might get bored and decide to wreak some havoc. If I don't smile, he will wreak havoc anyway but on a smaller selective scale.

"Okay, so he's learned magic and taken everyone by surprise. That doesn't mean it's over."

And in her breathless desperation, she actually sounded like a teenager for a moment. I'm glad she hasn't been completely refashioned. Elizabeth turned into what she did for her own survival and mine. I don't want to ruin this girl's life anymore than I indirectly have already.

"It does. You're too young to realize it yet," I say. When one has no allies and no visible resistance to turn to, there is little chance for success. I learned that the hard way. We also happened to be located in the nation that America most frequently visits and keeps an eye on, all to keep me in line.

"America likes you, and he doesn't have the sense to push that feeling down in his current state," Elly says, down right insisting on it, even going so far as to grab me by the shoulders and force me to agree.

"So, I indulge him. Then what? He lets everyone go out of the goodness of his heart?" I mutter, sarcasm thick. As much as I love the boy wizard that lived, I don't t think the power of love can save the day this time.

"No, you distract him, and I'll get help," she says, and bless her, she's serious. Frankly, Lisa has already proven he isn't above murdering a young girl in public. I could only imagine what he might do to her.

"And you want to incur his wrath why?"

"I'm human. He won't consider me significant, particularly if you keep insisting you don't want me," she says, pleading with her eyes.

"I don't want you," I say flatly. I just know she'll break my heart by failing like all the others. She doesn't look remotely hurt by the comment. Instead, she sports that stupid cocky grin of hers.

"Yes, you do, but that's not important right now. You need to get rid of the magic inside you. It's made you woefully complacent."

I scowl, even if I am only mildly peeved. Controlling magic isn't easy if it's unfocused and using another person's magic by force isn't either.

"It's not mine to control," I say, because I really do want to lie down, give up, be happy and forget deep down. I shouldn't have to fight anymore. I've fought so many times before.

"Magic has no favorites. You only have to concentrate," she reminds me.

I could try but . . .

"I can't."

In the end, he would just take more extreme measures instead. She slaps me repeatedly on the chest. I barely feel it. She hits harder.

"Yes, you can. This magic is making you a dullard."

Throwing a tantrum like a child, how unbecoming, she has no business defying our current reality. America would slaughter her, and the blood would show so clearly in her pretty white dress.

"Hitting me isn't going to help matters," I say instead. No need to scare her off yet. Right now, she is the resistance.

" Try." She's pouting, and it's foreign and familiar at the same time. On the one hand, Elizabeth rarely resorted to that tactic. Alfred on the other hand . . . And, it makes the experience all the more painful.

"I will if you stop your sniveling."

She immediately switches to a smile. I concentrate and the magic begins to burn and flow as uncontrollably as lava, but I have a clear intent in mind. I embrace her and tell her the words that I hope will set her free.

"No matter what happens. Don't come back."

The magic pours out of my body and envelops her. It's freeing and terrifying at the same time as if I've been through a trauma and only the drugs were keeping me quiet. She dematerializes and adds to the sudden emptiness. I had just enough energy to transport her out of the bubble and back into my living room. I hope she doesn't stay. I'm not worth waiting for. I've been rendered useless and so has everyone else for that matter.

Before I can even begin to comprehend my sudden isolation, I hear footsteps in the grass. I look up, expecting America's sudden rage induced appearance. I'm not completely wrong. A pudgy three year old America is ambling over to me. I know I should be insulted by the ploy, but I welcome him with open arms. I'm unsure if it's really America or not. Considering his current state of mind, I wouldn't put it past him to willingly indulge me. The important thing is it feels real when I hold him, and I am at peace when I close my eyes. I don't feel alarmed when the voice returns. _Be happy. Give up. Forget_. _I will come see you soon enough._

* * *

_**I entirely blame Doctor Who for this one, and yes the opening scene is inspired by the sequence with the master. **_


	2. Cry

Cry

Every wonder what it's like to let go and simply not care? I can tell you now the feeling is exquisite. Stocks crashing? People rioting? Guns shooting out muffins? I don't give a damn, and I (cough) might have caused those things to happen in the first place. Better yet, I can take anything I want and make just about everything I can imagine real with the slightest snap of my fingers. For all intents and purposes, I do have the world in my hands. Of course, you are eventually going to run into problems if you purposely and irrecoverably screw a bunch of people over. And . . . Russia has definitely been a problem. It's very hard to break a person that already smiles all the time.

And, I mean, really hard. We've been playing the same game for hours. (Or weeks? I don't remember.) Lucky for me, bones are much easier to break. Ivan's starting to give. He's shaking.

"Come on, don't tell me you're tired already? I know Belarus does worse things to you."

Ivan's suspended by his wrists and after an unfortunate incident a few days ago where he managed to kick me in the gut, he's feet are bound too. So, he's super easy to slice open. I make a few cuts, but he doesn't flinch. Still, his body is trembling, and he can't hide his exhaustion. I wonder if he realizes that he's about to lose. I wipe away the trickling blood and seriously consider jabbing my finger into the cut to make it bigger because I want him to cry. I've never seen him cry.

"You can't keep watch of everyone America. One day, you'll get tired, and it'll be my turn."

I tilt my head to the side and smirk. That's all the prompting I need. Sure enough, he shouts obscenities with abandon when I apply enough pressure. Everyone has their breaking point. Something strange happens though. He starts laughing.

"That tickles."

I roll my eyes and chuck the knife behind me. Damn, he didn't cry. He's squirting out red kool aid, and Ivan's laughing. I start laughing too. Maybe, he has earned a break.

Soon, he stops laughing and starts coughing. And, I'm left wondering if Nations can bleed out, and if so, should I get Belarus to help me bandage him up? No, that might trigger something, and I need her quiet.

There's a pitifully bleak cry from the other end of the room. Oh Roosevelt, the bunker had been so quiet I'd nearly forgotten my special guest. She's a shaking coat of mink at the moment. I pick her up. Russia visibly stiffens. I toss her up in the air, and without any warning, Russia actively tries to break free of the chains binding him. I catch her easily, and stick my tongue out at Russia, ha, damsel in distress, classic.

Sigh but the fun has to end sometime. Something's amiss at England's. I put Annie down and snap my fingers. The chains restraining Russia are gone, and he falls down. Ivan doesn't even try to break his fall, nor does he attempt to get up right away either. Sweet little Annie gets the pathetic excuse for an emergency kit out. Every bit of it scavenged when I was busy elsewhere.

Hmm . . . Maybe, London can wait a sec. I think it's been staring me in the face this entire time. I crouch down and whisper a proposition into her ear. She glances nervously at Russia who shakes his head no. Psht, he probably thinks I'm offering her some sort of sadistic choice or something. What kind of psycho does he take me for?

She turns around and tries to bandage Russia's wounds with her meager supplies. But, I know Annie. This one cracks easier than the others. This one cares way too much. So, after a split second of indecision, she pecks my cheek. I snap my fingers, and Russia's good as new. Well, almost, I'm not an idiot.

"Are you okay, Russia?"

"Who's Russia?"

"Call him Ivan, or you know what, call him whatever you want, he seriously doesn't remember."

I salute her and send them away into a fairly isolated pocket of dreamland. It's always snowing there, but it's warm, like wummer or whatever the kids call it these days. There, that should be a decent vacation for them both. And when I get bored, I'll just reverse the amnesia and play with them both some more.

When I return, the living room is still a mess, but that's to be expected. I hadn't brought Belarus with me to clean up this time. The time bubble is holding up exceptionally well too. Really, the only thing amiss is the open cage in the middle of the living room. My smile gets wider. Someone's here is exceptionally clever and that should be rewarded. So, I decide to get my hands on some cloud stuff and whip up a Pegasus. That is how you make ponies right?

Okay, so, I conveniently forgot clouds are made of water for a minute and got soaked, but I made a Pegasus out if it anyway. So there. And, the damn thing is skittish as hell. But after painstakingly getting it through the door, Amelia had better act surprised.

"Hey, Amelia, I know I sort of left you unconscious in a cage, but I got you the Pegasus you wanted. So, that totally makes up for it. I don't know why you want a Pegasus that is the color of pee, but it's yours."

She doesn't say a word and stays an immovable lump. Grr, I hate when she doesn't forgive me right away. The horse nudges me and looks through my soul with its creepy anime eyes. I look away, a little freaked out. If Amelia doesn't want it, I'm sending that thing to Japan where it belongs.

"I guess the pink hair is kind of cute." I admit, making the mistake of looking at it a second time. I sit down on the bed next to her and start petting the Pegasus. Amy doesn't budge. It's almost like . . . She isn't here. I get up and throw off the covers. There is a small note under the body of pillows.

_You took something from me. So, I took something from you. Would you like to make a trade?_

_ Elly_

I disintegrate the stupid Pegasus so it becomes a pile of watery slush on the floor, making the room unnecessarily slippery. No one gets a pony when they run away. In fact, I might make her forget she liked ponies in the first place out of spite. The damn ginger tricked me. She- she actually managed to one up me. There is someone out there who isn't under my control or thrall that has something I want. I take a deep breath and think about that for minute. I have someone new to chase. I grin. That sounds like so much fun.


	3. Laugh

Laugh

Yeah, I don't know what I did in a former life, but this has to be some sort of punishment. I really thought I was doing a good thing, and that in the long run, Amy would be useful a bargaining chip. Instead, I ruined my own plan. I have his attention now. I'm no longer some token red head that can slip by unnoticed and that makes me a horrible spy.

_ Why don't we play instead? I'll see you both very soon ~_

_America_

"So, what does your fortune cookie say? Mine says, your luck is about to change."

Knowing what I know, that innocent little fortune sounds a lot more sinister than what was probably intended, but Amy's smiling, completely unaware that our escape might be short lived. I'll need to correct that.

"We're screwed."

Despite my dead serious delivery, she laughs because a fortune cookie couldn't possibly say that in her mind. And, that's exactly what I find so vexing about this girl. She doesn't realize we're still in danger.

"No, really, what does it say?"

Oh well, I'm the one who decided to let her out of the cage. Until we find a way out of this mess, we're stuck with each other.

"He knows we're here. We need to go."

This time she seems to get I'm serious, but she simply looks confused. The possibility he could be outside the restaurant doesn't stop her from taking a generous sip of her drink.

"That's weird. I'm pretty sure he can only track us down while we're in America. I managed to hide out in Mexico for a few months once," Amy says.

What she said doesn't fit with what I know and that is troubling. Insanity might make him unpredictable, but feigned insanity could be a hell of a lot worse. A sane person doesn't make as many mistakes.

" He's been like this for months?"

Unfortunately, Amy doesn't say a word. Her priorities are different than mine. For one thing, she actually cares about the bastard. She's been around him the longest, and I can't help but think that she may eventually betray me.

Amy takes another fortune cookie from the little stack beside her. She took a handful from the basket in front of the cash register earlier. All she had to do was smile and explain how much she liked opening them and the lady at the front desk let her take as many as she liked. Not that I care that much, I don't have much money left. Anything we can get for free is welcome. When she opens this one, Amy frowns and shows it to me.

_Love is like a friendship set on fire. _

Ack, how depressing and in many ways, very true, I've seen this thing called love destroy many lives in the past. Judging by Amy's expression, it just might ruin hers. Her eyes are fixed on the door. I check behind me to see if there is cause for alarm, but I don't see anything. She pushes her drink aside and starts opening another.

"I wouldn't open that if I were you. You might end up opening pandora's box."

She's already taken off the wrapper and snapped the cookie open to reveal the message inside. Everything around us seems to go quiet as if the restaurant no longer exists. There is no curse, but the message confirms our suspicions, and the truth can be as terrible as a lie.

_ I'll always find you Amelia. I'm already outside. _

_ America_

Amy's gone absolutely rigid. She has her hands in her pockets and keeps staring outside at something I can't see. I'm sure it's intentional on his part. He's trying to isolate her. There's a faint blush on her cheeks that let's me know why I shouldn't let her read the rest.

"I'm opening the others, maybe there is something else" she mumbles, perfectly aware why she shouldn't either. I roll my eyes, as if I'm willingly going to give him an advantage.

"No."

That single word is enough to sever whatever temporary alliance we had formed when we escaped together, because the wannabe pilot has the nerve to open the next one anyway. Let's see. Escape from megalomaniac or open fortunes cookies? However, will we decide our priorities? I'm not having it.

"Amy, we don't have time for this."

She looks me right in the eye and says something that makes the words die in my throat.

"He's already here. Do you really think he'll let us go?"

Somehow, I can't answer realistically. I don't really know. So, I shake my head and back down because I'm not the queen of England. I only need Arthur to believe that. All I know is we have to try. Some part of her must realize that, or she wouldn't have come with me in the first place. Amy holds the next piece of paper in front of her, and it's more of the same.

_ I'm gonna fight for you, until your heart stops beating. _

_Ps. You're reading this in the wrong order_

Amy, normally optimistic energetic, Amy, seems ready to go out the front door and let him take her. The rest are ripped open without a second thought and she only glances at them briefly before adding them to the pile. Afterwards, She takes the time to arrange them in the proper order. I help because I figure we've wasted this much time. One more little indulgence shouldn't hurt.

_Love is like a friendship set on fire. _

_I love you and it's getting worse._

_Your luck is about to change. _

_I'm gonna fight for you, until your heart stops beating._

_ I'll always find you Amelia. I'm already outside. _

_ Don't keep me waiting. _

Amy keeps staring at the slips of paper, and dammit, she looks ready to cry. By some miracle, she restrains herself and takes a deep breath before turning to me.

"When America finally found me, he burst into tears and hugged me like I'm the one that traumatized him. I think he seriously thought I was dead. "

Oh no, I don't need her getting sentimental. I check the window again, worried he might see this and know his plan is working. This time I do see him. He waves and I compulsively wave back. It seems impolite not to. He's dressed casually today, wearing a jacket similar to a Amy's. I narrow my eyes. America wants to take my leverage away, but that's not the worse part. Alfred wants to prove that he doesn't need to take her by force. He wants her to come back on her own.

"Amy, he's trying to trick you. He's manipulating your emotions. Remember, he put you in a cage. If he wasn't a country with mind altering powers, you would have filed a restraining order a long time ago."

She shakes her head again, wiping away tears.

"I know it's stupid to cry. It's just Alfred's been sick for a long time. I wish I could help him."

Here's my chance to make sure she doesn't turn on me. I check the window again. He's smiling because she's crying, perfect. I point to the window.

"Look outside and tell me if he deserves any sympathy."

She turns around, but I'm far too late. America's already prepared. He's leaning against the window holding up a sign..

_You can't hide. So, come and see me already. _

Of course, he's smiling like she's the only one in the room he cares about. Amy's smiling too. He has her full attention. And, it's like the synapses in my brain can't connect. How can she be falling for this? She knows what he's like. America starts making funny faces and doing increasingly elaborate sight gags. She's laughing now. I let my head hit the table with a bang. Why protect my brain if idiots can stop me without even trying?

My day doesn't get any better. There's a horrible screeching sound letting everyone know there is an announcement coming from the newly installed speakers.

_**England has just been declared the 51**__**st**__** state. **_

The game has changed. Now, everyone here is screwed too. All because he wanted to find us a.s.a.p. Even if we leave England, he could do the same thing again.

"That asshole."

Amy's not really listening. In fact, she doesn't seem to care at all. She's too busy enjoying the spectacle outside. America is making rainbows come out of his hands. He must be getting desperate.

"Look on the bright side, now, we know how he found us." she says cheerfully when five seconds ago she seemed to be treating another encounter with America like a potential death sentence. Some consistency would be nice but for now, a simple reminder might do the trick.

"Amy stop paying attention. It's what he wants."

Lucky for me, she does look away, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

"Fine. How are we going to escape?"

I don't have a master plan, today. I'm relying on my instincts instead. America likes this girl. He's not going to force her to do anything, psychotic or not. If his behavior around England holds up, he wants his affections reciprocated legitimately.

"We're walking out the door."

"You're serious?" she says.

I didn't expect her to believe me but a lot of what happens next relies on her understanding his current psyche. Otherwise, she might play into his hands.

"He won't take either of us by force. That takes away the fun for him."

Amy is still skeptical, but she's smirking.

"So, we literally just have to ignore him, and he'll go away,"

Against my better judgement, I look out the window again. He's not there. Something is up. The sooner we make a run for it the better.

"Leaving might not be that simple, but it's worth a shot." I don't want to lie. There's a chance we'll both get captured and locked up again. The universe works in my favor. Amy's run out of cola. Nothing is keeping her here. Which means, she shrugs and forgets our slim chance of success for now.

"Eh, I don't have any better ideas. Why not?"

When we leave, we don't see him, but we both know that he hasn't left. Amy and I manage to walk all the way to the corner before he shows his face. To make his visit even more intrusive, he decides to appear in between us and put an arm around both of us.

"Amy, Elly. How are my two little traitors?"

He kisses Amy on the forehead and pinches me on the cheek. Thankfully, whatever possessed her to act the way she did in the restaurant doesn't happen this time, she's glaring at him. I can't help but sigh in relief. I have been getting very mixed signals from Amy.

"You left me unconscious in a cage."

America rolls his eyes and unhands her. He doesn't let go of me though because he knows I'll bolt the minute I'm free. The headlock he has me in is becoming increasingly more uncomfortable, and he's not being very careful. I can't even struggle properly because he might accidentally snap my neck in the process.

"And if you'd stayed home, you would have received a present. Now, you get nothing," he says, wagging his finger at her.

Amy pouts, and this time, I'm the one who rolls my eyes - typical. Maybe, her behavior doesn't make sense to me because Amy's just as confused about the situation as I am. She doesn't know what she wants. Personally, the fact he's become a psychopath would have made me jump ship a long time ago.

"Aww, that's too bad. You know what would have made a great present?"she asks, taking hold of his arm and consciously pulling him away from me and closer to her. I catch on quickly and free myself when he loosens his grip. America doesn't care right now. I'm a secondary concern. He does however snap his fingers so I am unable to run. Drat.

"What?"

He lifts her up by the waist and holds her close. She whispers the answer, and some of my faith in her is restored.

"Medical treatment."

America doesn't get angry. I've only known him for a few weeks, but never once was he actually angry in that time, annoyed sure, impatient yes, but never angry, this time is no different. He laughs and pecks her on the cheek.

"Ouch, I didn't realize staying sane meant so much to you."

He's not sorry, and the fact that he isn't seems to have increased her initial anger ten fold. She narrows her eyes and puts her arms on his shoulders to get as close to him as possible.

"I could have died," she hisses back.

America's smile falters but only for a second. After setting her down, he snaps his fingers, and the bruises on her forehead disappear.

"Don't be so dramatic," he says. She nods, touching the healed area. Now that he's fixed the damage, she seems less sure of herself.

This does not bode well for either of us. I can't speak. I can't move. I'm practically invisible. There is no way for me to help her until he snaps his fingers.

America wraps one arm around her waist and pulls her closer. She doesn't resist even though she looks uncomfortable with the arrangement. That in of itself isn't so bad as I could see it as a misguided attempt to win her affection until he starts petting her. Then, it becomes an obvious power play.

"I missed you."

She shakes her head, pushing his hand away. Her hair looks frazzled and unkempt from the continuous petting. When he fixes her hair, Amy doesn't seem to mind or notice when he continues to pet her afterwards.

"You noticed I was missing, but you didn't miss me."

At this point, America isn't very patient. He grabs her chin and makes her look up at him.

"Of course I did, why else would I come get you? You do realize a pilot that is a afraid to fly isn't very valuable to anyone else right?"

Oh, that's something I didn't know. Is that how he broke her? Amy's devastated and crying silently. He wipes the tears away and is smiling smugly as he does so. Being unable to do anything about it except watch is almost physically painful, the feeling doesn't sit well with me. I don't like feeling helpless. America carries her bridal style, and she actually wraps her arms around his neck and sobs into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I forgot you were here, but hey, that's what you wanted right Elly? To be alone and dismissed because you couldn't handle the pressure a second time, I bet you're glad you wished you didn't have a family anymore. How did growing up in an orphanage work out for you?" He smirks and snaps his fingers. I was in mid-run so I fall to my knees in front of him.

"Shut up."

Suddenly, I'm filled with acid and fire and everything corrosive and deadly. He has no right to ever bring that up, and I couldn't have possibly chosen that life. No matter who I used to be. No matter how many times I was imprisoned by family simply because I existed. I wouldn't wish them away. I wouldn't kill them this time. I get back up and dust myself off.

"Amy, you're not useless and don't think for a second that he's the only one who can possibly love you. Maybe a long time ago, you might have cared for him, but he's changed. No one would love him like this. He's demented."

Amy takes a few deep breaths and calms down. America responds by holding her tighter. She cups his face in her hands and makes him look at her own splotchy face. He can't look away, and this time he's the one that looks uncomfortable.

"Put me down."

America could easily overpower her, and he's shown the capacity to openly intimidate her, but in that one moment, she has his full cooperation.

"Okay."

Amy starts walking away from him, but he grabs her hand, forcing her to stop. She sighs and looks back at him. This time she's frosty and not so forgiving.

"What will you do to me if I don't go with you?"

Alfred is startled by the accusation. There's a vulnerability present that is usually not there. He shakes his head and attempts to reassure her with words.

"Nothing but please don't leave," he says. Her hard gaze softens, but she removes his hand. Amy and America stand there for a little while. America trying to figure out ways to make her stay, and Amy trying her best to make herself go. She needs a little push.

"Amy, we're leaving, remember? " She snaps out of her daze and mumbles a response.

"Right, sorry."

America isn't deterred. He blocks our path and is back to his usual smiling self. Simply because he knows he's losing, and he doesn't like that.

"Woah, not so fast, I'm not done talking," he says, putting his hands up. Amy side steps him easily, and I'm not far behind.

"Well, I'm done listening," she shouts when we're further away. I'm relieved that we've put distance between us. It doesn't matter how far we go though. When we turn around, he is right in front of us.

"Aren't you hungry?" he says, holding up a burger. I put a hand on my forehead, (way to think outside of the box America.) She answers with a fair amount of scorn before completely derailing her indifferent persona.

"I just ate. Of course, I'm not- ooh Mc Donalds."

She takes the burger willingly without the slightest bit of hesitation. Apparently, nothing that has happen in the last few weeks has given her any pause, not the kidnaping, not the psychological manipulation, none of it make her the slightest bit suspicious. I can't stand this anymore. I'm tired of watching her repeat the same stupid mistakes. I knock the burger out of her hand.

"Don't eat that. I just fed you."

America raises an eyebrow. Okay, that makes me sound like the controlling one but I had a good reason so I'm not going to dwell on it. She gives me an incredulous look.

"What the hell?"

Okay, somehow this took a wrong turn but maybe, I can still fix it. America whispers in her ear. And now, she's looking at the burger in his hand like it's the last burger on earth. He gives it to her, and she takes a huge bite. He smiles at me afterwards. I clench my fist and try to calm down. He planted the idea that she's hungry in her head, and she doesn't realize it.

"I know you think your hungry-"

"Starving,"she says, taking another bite. The juices from the burger are dripping off her chin. The way she's devouring the burger is almost predatory.

"Amy, do you feel any different?"

She looks up at the sky still holding what is left of the nearly destroyed burger in her hand. America whispers to her again. She looks me in the eye and answers confidently like a good dog.

"No, I'm fine."

I glare at him. He doesn't play fair, and my inability to stop him is starting to frustrate me. Amy tugs the sleeve of his jacket.

"I want another one."

He snaps his fingers and another one appears. She takes it and similarly starts tearing the burger apart. He pats her head.

"You can have as many as you want," America says, wrapping his arm around her waist again. She's too fixated on burgers to give a damn. I cross my arms and scoff.

"You're going to give her a heart attack you know."

Before he can answer, Amy interrupts, looking at her empty hands before screaming in frustration.

" Why am I still hungry?"

America shushes her. She shushes back. He laughs before clamping her mouth shut. She lets out a muffled cry that slowly dies out the longer his hand is over her mouth.

"Calm down, the food I gave you is making you hungrier. It's a variation of Faerie food. You won't feel full, but you'll keep wanting more."

Her eyes widen as she realizes her mistake. She looks down at her feet, and what she says next saddens me because she can't help herself.

"I-I want another one."

He rests his chin on her head and strokes her neck. She stiffens but immediately relaxes after he says a few words. Words I can't hear. I step forward, and he looks at me, waiting to see what I'll do. The question in his eyes is very simple. Why haven't you run away?

That's all the attention I get, because I freeze up again. What can I do when he constantly changes the rules? Meanwhile, Amy is desperately trying to reach a burger that he is holding out of reach.

"This one isn't free."

A little more of Amy's willpower is chipped away and she grabs him by the collar and pulls him down. He cooperates, a huge grin on his face.

"What do I need to do?" she asks. From what I can see, his thoughts aren't completely innocent when he hears those words. He lets go of her and clears his throat.

"Guess?" he says, putting a finger on the tip of her nose.

"Uhm . . . never leave again,"she says. America finally gives her the burger which she practically scarfs down. He pats her head a second time.

"Good girl."

I cringe when she kisses him on the lips in response. It's brief, but it's enough to make him smile even wider and feel good about what he did, the sicko.

"Tell me, why are you catching her this way. This can't be fun for you," I ask. This goes against his pattern, and I'm worried that England might be his next victim. He shrugs, conjuring another burger. I presume it is a regular burger since he doesn't offer it to Amy and eats it himself.

" I'm just having a little fun. The effects wear off eventually. I'm not demented like those fairies," he says.

Good, I was afraid she was stuck like that. The effects are temporary which explains why he was willing to take the easy way out. He can still toy with her at home in a controlled environment where she isn't liable to run away at the slightest misstep

"So, let's say you take her back with you. She'll still hate you for treating her like a play thing when the effects wear off," I say which probably would have had more of an affect if she wasn't clinging to him and begging for more food.

He shrugs and sticks a lolly pop into Amy's mouth. She starts sucking on it like a pacifier and closes her eyes. He lifts her and easily gets her to hold onto him now that she's entering dreamland.

"I already know she doesn't. Why else would she cry for me?" he says, kissing her forehead again. She snuggles closer to him.

Ugh, this shouldn't be happening.

"Those tears weren't for you. Those tears are for who you were before," I'm yelling, and he seems to like that I'm angry. He grins.

"I'm a _very _good actor."

"You're impossible."

"No just improbable, you coming with? Or would you rather sleep in a trash can or something tonight?" he asks, and I'm dumbfounded.

"I ran away. Why would I come back willingly unless you tricked me?"

" Right, it's not like I have England that thanks to a little mind alteration, you care about a whole lot. What was I thinking?"

"You can't make someone love you," I say both to him and to myself. From his smug expression, he knows.

"Think what you want, just remember, bad things might happen to England when your gone," he says in a sing song voice.

Now, I know he's bluffing. I'm not the only one who cares about England a whole lot.

"Yeah right."

America's mouth is a thin hard line. His eyes are equally cold.

"I mean he might forget you existed."

Me or her or both? Any way I picture it, the thought hurts. I can't take the unfriendly stare, not from him. It's too alien to look at for too long. I look past him instead.

"T-th-that's okay."

He doesn't stop there. Since I reacted, he's going for the kill.

"He might not remember anything at all."

That, I know he won't do. I poke his chest.

"You wouldn't do that. It's too easy. You'll get bored."

America doesn't deny it. In fact, he's smiling again and looking at me with way too much familiarity. He ruffles my hair.

"I like you, Elly. You pay attention. That's a problem. I'm going to let you get away with a lot more than I should."

As much as I dislike his sudden fondness for me, it works in my favor. By every indication, he's going to let me go. So, I smile back.

"Count on it."

With that little concession, he is more than willing to hand over some notes. The catch being that it is no longer possible to exchange different forms of money with others by conventional methods. He wants me to stay in England, and this is his subtle way of reinforcing that wish.

"See you later, that should be enough to tide you over for a while," he says, giving me a salute. And, I have to ruin his quick departure by opening my mouth.

"Leave her."

It's a simple request, and if I were Annie, he might even indulge me and actually leave her despite the trouble he went through to get her in the first place. The problem is I'm Elly, and he knows I'm clever. He's also very aware of how close Amy came to walking out on him. I doubt he'll risk leaving her with me for those reasons alone.

"Why? You don't get along. Unless, you're afraid of being alone?" he asks. If he didn't have his hands full carrying Amy, he would have been all over me in order to exploit that little snippet of information. America doesn't have to. He looks right through me and that is more than enough to make me uncomfortable.

"Erm, no, that's not it," I say. Actually, that's exactly it.

"Here, all you have to do is flip this coin, and I'll bring you home," he says, tossing the coin in my generally direction. I catch it. The design is fairly simple, one side has a star and the other side has a moon.

"Don't loose that. It's a rental. Oh, and before I forget, here is a fortune cookie for the road," he says. I take it reluctantly. I'm not foolish enough to eat the actual cookie after what I saw, but I do read the note inside.

_Loneliness breaks the spirit. I look forward to seeing that happen to you. _

_ America_

I don't like the insinuation. I'll be just fine on my own. And, someone out there has to care and want to change things like me. Somewhere out there, someone has to know what they are doing. I don't want to be a leader, because I'm not the queen of England. I'm Elly, and I don't have the faintest idea what I'm doing. In fact, I lost my only ally in the span of a few hours. Someone please help me. I wold really appreciate it. Is that - Is that a flying green bunny?

"Hello, we're going to Japan."

I don't want to seem ungrateful, but could something less ridiculous please help me? . . . Sigh, I didn't think so.

* * *

_**Most of the messages in the fortune cookies are quotes from authors, online sources, or from actual fortune cookie messages. **_


	4. Hope

Hope

There is something about sleep that fascinates me, a person is so alive and yet so dead at the same time. Sure, they're breathing in and out, but that's nothing. A person is pretty much running on automatic when they're asleep. It's a programmed vulnerability simply there to keep a person's brain from exploding. In the end, no one accomplishes anything by sleeping. Countries can put off sleeping longer than most, but I haven't slept in weeks, and it's starting to get to me. So, it is really super tempting to go under the covers with Amelia and let myself close my eyes for a second or a hour, maybe longer if I can manage it. But, Sleep is scary. There are a lot of problems with sleeping now. What would they do to me if they found me that way? What would I dream about? Would the crying stop or would the pleas get louder? In the morning, I might be Russia's pet rat or England's "new" kid. Falling asleep is dangerous, but she's just laying there, and it would be so easy to join her. Then, I think of something worse because it's the most probable answer. What if she runs away?

I snap my fingers and the doors and the windows lock. Amelia flinches in her sleep. I chuckle. She's such a light sleeper. What am I doing? It's three a.m. and everyone is locked up tight. I'm being ridiculous. No one can possibly know that I'm sleeping in. I lay down and wrap myself in half the blanket and use her as a body pillow. Amelia is startled awake by the contact. She blinks a few times, slowly comprehending her surroundings. I'm the first thing she actively recognizes.

"America, why are you here?"

"I'm tired, and so, are you."

Amelia's still drowsy so she swallows the suggestion easily. She nods and yawns.

"Okay but didn't I run away?" Amelia asks.

That improves my mood considerably. If Amelia is not sure, she can't be angry at me for what happened. I rest my chin on her shoulder and tell her the words that will make her near escape meaningless.

"No, you were dreaming."

Of course, Amelia doesn't believe me right away. There's a lingering doubt. Fortunately, I've manipulated her so many times that she has a hard time separating reality from fiction.

"What about the red head?"

"England didn't want her so I sent her home. Are you feeling okay?" I say, putting my hand on her forehead. Amelia mumbles something or other and relaxes. I breathe a sigh of relief. She bought the lie. I close my eyes and with very little effort fall into the darkness. And, it feels like it's only been a second before I can't breathe. I start coughing. There are feathers in my mouth and nose, ick. She couldn't have tried something a little less annoying? I easily grab her wrists and push her aside. The pillow falls in the process.

"That wasn't very nice."

I sound like a ogre. I can't hide my irritability this early in the morning. This is why I don't like sleeping. Everyone is trying to kill me. She's laying there with a smirk on her face.

"Neither are you," she says.

Fair enough, I don't do things the nice way often. There is no need to punish her right away for something as ineffective as trying to suffocate me with a pillow. I barely brought her back yesterday. She needs to remember why she sticks around.

"What do you want to do today?"

Amy looks surprised, but she recovers quickly.

"Go outside or do you burn in the daylight?"

Hmm, cute, sometimes I forget why I don't just brainwash everyone and get it over with. This is more fun. Then again, I'm getting predictable if a teenager figured that out. Bah, I need to get that red head out of my head. I'll go see her soon enough. I have things to take care of today. It can't be playtime all the time.

"No, the earth will swallow me up and never spit me out if you must know." The whisper makes her shiver. Amelia has never been comfortable being touched, even more so than Annie who tends to silently accept whatever I do to her. So, I'm not surprised that she inadvertently freezes up when I hold her close. Persistence is key. She calms down after I rub her back a few times.

"So, you won't come with me?"

This is a strange question for her to ask. Normally, she doesn't want me around. No matter how many times I try to convince her otherwise, she knows there is something wrong. I've given up telling her any different. Since she won't be happy on her own, I've almost stopped caring what happens to her and treat her more and more like a plaything with varying degrees of success. Yesterday, proved me wrong, I can make her happy, but I'm going to have to change my approach a little.

" You actually want me to come?"

I start petting her again without meaning too. (She hates that.) Luckily, Amelia's more receptive today, despite her initial reactions to my touch this morning. She kisses me on the lips, and it catches me off guard, even if she did the same thing the day before. This time, she's not under any outside influences and it's confusing.

"If you don't act weird," she says, patting my cheek.

"F-f-fine."

There's not much more I can say. I don't see much reason to object, even if she is trying to play me. This is what I want after all.

"I don't think you can," she says, turning her back on me so she can stretch. As far as I'm concerned, it is an open invitation to grope her, but when I do, she looks up at me questioningly, and it makes me freeze up. What is she doing to me? I've touched her like this lots of times. Why am I so flustered now?

"I'll be good."

And, I think I mean it this time. I even keep my hands to myself after my initial awkward grab. Much to my chagrin, the madness doesn't stop there. She's triggered something, and I can't tear my eyes away from her. And, Amelia knows what she's doing too. The girl is contorting into all sorts of different shapes while she's stretching. And when she is done, she puts her hands on my shoulders and whispers exactly what she wants into my ear.

"We're going for a walk."

"Wouldn't you rather go to Paris or Venice?"

Or, anywhere remotely interesting? I can literally take us anywhere in the world, and she wants to take a walk in the gardens. I guess the fact we are in England makes that a little more understandable but still.

"Let's see if you can handle walking without doing something creepy first," Amelia says.

"Go ahead and doubt me, you'll be kicking yourself for not choosing some place more fun."

Amelia encircles my neck and wraps her legs around my waist. My mind immediately goes to the gutter, but I restrain myself. The girl doesn't realize she's playing a very dangerous game.

"Oh, please, you'd take me anywhere I wanted if I asked you to." she says, taking advantage of my stunned silence to peck me on cheek. Oh Roosevelt, I'm blushing. And crap, I'm using cheesy euphemisms again.

"What makes you think that?" My voice cracks, and I'm getting redder by the minute. Has it really been that long since I've done this?

Amelia cups my face in her hands, and I'm forced to look right at her. I can't think.

"Al, hold still."

"What are you- oh."

The kiss isn't anything special. It's more than a simple peck on the cheek and less than a make out session, but I wasn't expecting her to give me what I wanted, and now that she has, I'm at a loss for words. She more than made her point.

"So, can we take that walk now?"

Amelia hasn't shown any indication that she wants to get off me. I'm surprisingly okay with that. It's not taking advantage of her if she initiates the courtship right?

"You can have Australia if you want."

She smirks and whispers back.

"I don't think you'd like that."

Dammit, I'm turning red again and feeling more than a little possessive. She squeaks when I squeeze her.

"No, not like that," I say. Amy laughs which helps me calm down. She doesn't mean it, and I hate that I believed that for a second. Wait, wasn't her name Amelia? Or was it Lisa? I knew someone named Lisa. Or- maybe, I should just ask her.

"What's your name again?"

It's like I asked the most important question in the world. She's holding onto me like I might disappear any second while chocking back a sob.

"Amy."

The walk to the gardens isn't very eventful. The streets are deserted. They know perfectly well who lives here and why they should stay away. And for once, I feel bad about making all those people flee. Where did they go? Are they crying out for England's help like my people are crying out for mine? It hurts.

"Alfred, is something wrong?"

The voices are getting louder. I can't keep them quiet. I can't hold them back. Dammit. Why did she make me feel something? Why did I wake up?

"What did you do?"

She's confused, and her first instinct is to try to get away from me - typical. I grab both of her wrists and hold her in front of me. And, for once, she is truly afraid instead of angry.

"I didn't do anything."

Children are crying, people are hungry, and so many souls are praying, someone save us. I get the feeling that I shouldn't be able to hear that and that these pleas are for someone else. Shut up. I can't protect you. I don't want you in my head anymore. You're asking for too much. I don't have anything left to give you. Shut up.

"They won't shut up. Why won't they shut up?"

I'm shaking her, and at this point, I don't give a damn if she snaps like a piece of peanut brittle under the pressure. Amy did this on purpose. She has to know how to turn it off.

"Alfred, calm down."

That's all she can say? Calm down and forget, you can hear a millions of panicking voices that can't help themselves. Oh and I shouldn't even think about the fact that it's all my fault.

"There isn't anything I can do. Why do they keep asking?"

My question isn't ignored this time. She's looks down at the tiled floor and answers, confirming my worst fears.

"You hurt them. Did you think there wouldn't be any consequences?"

"But, there were voices before just not as many. They were gone for a while, and then, they came back because you did something."

I didn't used to hear them. What changed? Would they always be there threatening to overwhelm me? Could I sever the link or would that doom me?

"Stop ignoring them, you can't shut off the emotions you don't like, Al. It won't work."

Silly girl, I managed to tune them out once. I could do that again, even if I have to take drastic measures. The TV, I need to get on TV and get a little creative. After all, there's nothing stopping me from taking matters into my own hands.

" I- I'm going to have to do something to shut them up."

"That's not really what I meant."

Oh, she's sees I'm not all better and that love does not redeem. I'm sorry if my actions do not reflect your dreams. Quite frankly, I'm getting sick of your honey trap approach. I hate that you get away with it because I love you the most.

Amy, you've caused a whole lot of trouble from the very start. I almost wish I could make you disappear but part of me remembers why that would break my heart. I don't know what to do with you. My antics don't amuse you, and if they do, it's never for very long because you convince yourself that laughing with me is wrong. For some reason, you think you can save me by staying strong. The thing you don't know is that I've known your weakness all along.

"Alfred? Please tell you aren't going to do anything rash."

"Hmm? Not right now, I'm busy."

I pin her against the wall and study her. Amy is nervous, and I don't blame her. I haven't decided how to deal with her yet. Honestly, under normal circumstances, she wouldn't be much of a threat. Unlike Amelia, Amy is ordinary and knows her limits. This girl can be intimidated, and I've managed that countless times. And yet because she has Amelia's face, she can manipulate me more than I'd like.

So, do I cut up her pretty little face? No, my conscience will come back, and I can't have that. Maybe, something a little less cruel. I can send her away . . . but I'd miss her. Dammit Alfred, shut up!

"Al, let me go."

I do and that frustrates me all the more. Some girl shouldn't have this affect on me.

I'm supposed to listen to people? Don't you remember? **Shut up.**

"Do you still want to go for that walk?"

I can't believe I'm doing this. Amy is happy though even if she is preparing to bolt. I should have left her in Mexico but I was so afraid . . . You just like hearing yourself talk don't you? Ugh, no wonder you never got anything done before I came along. America, please . . . go away.

"That depends, what's my name?"

Why do I feel this is a trick question? Oh well, I think I know. My memory hasn't been very reliable lately. I'm broken, and eventually, someone will notice. But, I remember. Her name is . . .

"Amy."

She holds onto me like a life line, if only she realized I wasn't any safer to be around. I'm the reason she can't go home. I don't want to let her go. I don't want to hear the voices telling me to come back and do my job. And, worst of all, I'm the one that decided to hell with being nice. And, it won't be long before I stop seeing reason and make someone else miserable because I've given up, even if not every part of me agrees with me yet.

The walks was peaceful, and Amelia didn't try to run away once. She even agreed to wait for me upstairs when we returned. I'm not sure what I did to cheer her up, but her new attitude works for me. I want her to smile, and she's giving away her smiles like candy. And yet, I can't help but want more. I want the first smile I remember seeing. So, I decide to do something very stupid. I'm going to let England out of his little fantasy.

* * *

We're playing patty cake. I'm not sure how long it's been. I haven't been keeping track. There isn't any way to keep track. There is no night, but I'm sure it's been longer than a day. Alfred doesn't seem to mind. It's suspicious. He can't be the real Alfred. This one stays by my side constantly when America would have wandered off by now. He never disagrees with me when a young America would have thrown a tantrum at the slightest provocation. How sloppy of him, I would think he would put more effort into the lie.

"How do I get out of here?"

The little one looks up at me and tries to hand me a flower. I sigh and push his hand away. This thing has to be the product of some sort of glamour.

"No, where is the exit?"

He tries to speak, but nothing comes out. Instead, he stomps his foot and tries to hand me the flower again. Really? This is how I'm spending eternity?

"Look, I need the key that will unlock the reality bubble. If you're not going to help me, I suggest you get out of my way."

The fake Alfred face palms and shoves the flower into my hand before pointing to the now very visible door. Oh, apparently, I was just missing the obvious, stupid charms. The flower transforms into a key, and I open the door only to find America in the process of opening it.

"That saves me the trouble of sorting out all these keys, thank you," he says, making the keys disappear into the abyss from which they came. I scowl at him. All his superfluous use of magic is getting annoying. How has he not felt any long lasting effects?

"You're probably wondering who that is," America says, snapping his fingers. I turn around and check, mostly out of curiosity. He has to be kidding. I grow pale as I realize who I've been fussing over for who knows how long.

"So, this entire time I was holding flying mint bunny?"

America's can barely hold back his amusement. He puts an arm around my shoulder and smiles proudly. Sigh, Alfred does like playing pranks. I should have known better.

"Yup, are you mad?"

"A little, I don't like being lied to" I say tiredly. Flying mint bunny whispers into my ear, and I nod absently. I'm not sure how much safer Japan is, but he must know something I don't if he wants to take her there. He leaves without running into any trouble. America has lost interest in him and that suits my purposes just fine. If Flying mint bunny can come and go freely, I may be able to contact the others and see how they're fairing.

"I guess it was a little mean. Tell you what, you can play with my Dalek," he says, tossing me a remote control. My curiosity gets the better of me and I fiddle with the buttons. A life size Dalek appears and yells the classic catch phrase.

"EXTERMINATE!"

"I would have made you a real one, but they're like rats. They don't go away completely, no matter what you do. I figured this was a good compromise."

I'm not really listening, if only because he's prone to rambling. Messing with the controls gives me a reason to ignore him.

"I don't even know why you like them. They look like vacuum cleaners with a plunger stuck to them."

He takes away the control when he notices I'm not paying attention.

"As I was saying, I'll be gone for a few hours. I need to do a newscast and talk to some folks, maybe take a Tylenol. Anyway, there's food in the fridge, and if you hear noises coming from upstairs, it's just Amy playing dance dance revolution.

"What did you say?"

Could America be getting better? Alfred does seem saner, and he was planning to let me out before I released myself. Unfortunately, his slip of the tongue seems to worry him more than anything else. If he is improving, the change is not of his own accord.

" Right, I mean Amelia's playing dance dance revolution upstairs. Sorry about that, here's your controller back."

I take it, and he's gone with a snap of his fingers. Only this time, I notice him hold a hand over his head in pain, just before he disappears.

* * *

_**Here you go. We will see what is happening in Japan's place, next time. **_


	5. Trust

Trust

Pull yourself together, you can do this. I've talked to large crowds before. So what if I flub a line? This is television, and I've already sabotaged the world economy and invited chaos into everyone lives. I can't possibly make a worse impression.

I just want the voices to stop. They're giving me such a headache. What am I going to say again? There's so many things they want me to fix. Then, there's the economic plan. It's so . . . communist. I don't think that should bother me anymore, but it makes me want to scrap everything and cancel my tv appearance. The media will eat me alive, or I could get rid of them. Bah but then, what will I watch on tv? They're getting lazy though. Everyone is copying everyone else. They don't even investigate things anymore.

You're on in five minutes, focus. Technically, I could force them to stop pandering to the entertainment base but that may not be in my best interest. And . . . I'm not focusing. Smile, come on, you're always smiling. What is the matter with me today? It's that girl's fault. No, now is not the time to play the blame game, what's done is done. The important thing is to fix it before I keel over because of a brain aneurysm or something. I'm so tired. Why did I have to rush into this? Maybe, what I'm doing wont help at all. Sigh, it could be the tire coral reef all over again.

I have to try or figure out how I tuned them all out in the first place. Why do I even need make up? I look all shiny, still, better pretty than sweaty like Nixon. The hair stylist is a chatterbox, and I keep telling her I don't change hairstyles. I should walk onto the set already and get this over with. Damn, I can't make myself leave the chair. Why is everything so bright? The reason is in my head somewhere, but right now, the lights irritate me. Calm down, you wanted change you got it. Turn this confusion and panic into a good thing. You're always complaining that nothing gets done. Make all the changes you want. Who knows better than you?

"America, we're ready for you."

I'm not, but I have to go. Be happy. The world is watching. Or, I can exile myself to the moon and never go near a camera ever again. Don't ruin this for me, stupid. I'm sorry. I guess will start with the stuff that will be easier to swallow. No, start with the stuff that will make the idiots squirm. I think I'll be lucky if I manage to say anything at all. Get out there, now.

The walk to my seat on stage is agonizing. Everyone is pretending to be sincere. They'd all smother me with a pillow if they had the chance. They're only looking for someone to protect them, nothing more. There are no cops in dystopia. A country is about the best protection a person can get. I sit down and it's surprisingly comfortable. I really thought the chair would be stiff and more of a prop if anything. I'm holding blank sheets of paper. Why did I decide to improvise again? Right, I wanted my personality to shine through. Roosevelt, I am stupid. Enough with your stupid euphemisms. I can't help it. I can't stop.

You're on in three . . . two . . . one. Hello world, I'm on tv smiling stupidly at the camera. I clear my throat and pretend to collect my notes. The papers scatter everywhere. Screw it. They don't like me anyway.

"Hello, my little nation of complainers."

One of the camera men is signaling me to cut. I ignore him and smile into the camera. It feels good. Maybe, I really am an attention whore.

"Recently, it has come to my attention that you're not happy with the current state of affairs."

My hands are clasped together and I lean forward, imagining someone else squirming on the other end. Remarkably, this is what eases my nerves. Yes, some people are angry, but most of them are afraid. Fear is an excellent motivator.

"You're fighting for scraps of paper, (excuse me), money like it's the end of the world. Let me tell you now. It's not worth it. We will be replacing the current monetary system with credits. And, no, do not start fighting over credit cards. You will have to register to receive a new card, and each month, you will receive a thousand credits to do with what you will."

The idea still leaves a sour taste in my mouth, but it's the easiest to implement. Besides, there is a very good upside. This system will give me more control than I've ever had before. I give the camera a knowing look.

"So, put the money back where you found it, Amelia. It's useless."

Already, there is muttering among the camera crew and remaining anchors. No one had any idea what I was planning before I went on air, and there are obvious concerned mutters mixed in with the usual helpless cries of agony. My smile becomes even more sardonic as I look into the lense.

"No one panic yet. This system will take a while to implement, and before, you even think of snatching up children for easy money, I'm already having child services collect them, but more on that later."

And, then, I went over some boring stuff like fixing infrastructure problems and exactly how much control I would actually be exerting on other countries along with what would happen to the old leaders that are imprisoned in an undisclosed location. The words start blending together in my mind, and I could almost swear I am naming a purple dinosaur the new president of the United States.

"So, in conclusion, we're going to through an awful lot of changes, but don't worry. I'm not cruel. This is not a blatant attack on your freedoms. Speaking of which, I know some of you are upset about the muffin shooting guns, but muffins are better. Derpy has spoken!"

A few people laugh and a couple of others look at the people laughing like they belong in an insane asylum. Most people have no idea what I am talking about and go about their business.

"Besides, guns don't work on me anyway. And if you think I'm bluffing, let me demonstrate."

I take out a revolver, and now, the people around me are really concerned. The main anchor lady even gets on stage to stop me. I put the gun to my head and pull the trigger. Granted, I've never tried this before, but if Prussia can survive a bullet to the head, I sure can. Shit. That does hurt, but just as I thought, I didn't feel any more pain than if the bullet had simply grazed my shoulder. I might have lost some I.Q. points though.

"Are you insane?" the anchor lady shouts at me. I take my eyes off the camera and wipe some blood from my face. The bleeding makes it look a lot worse than it really is.

"If I wasn't, I probably am now," I answer gleefully. She stands there dumbfounded. Whelp, I can't have her interrupting my broadcast.

"Please get off my stage, I'm trying to talk to the nice people on tv."

She does, and I wonder if she backed down so easily because she really does think I'm insane. Oh well, it doesn't matter anyway. I'm not done talking. I snap my fingers, and it's as if I never shot myself in the first place. When I touch the area where the bullet went through my brain it still stings, but that is to be expected. I just need to look invincible.

"So, anyway, I bet I can guess what you're thinking. You're still worried about the economy right?"

Wow, I sound so bitter. I should probably lighten up a bit. I whistle to my cat, and he runs right to me. I pick him up and have him lay down on the desk. I scratch behind his ear and give everyone a big slasher smile.

"Well, too bad, we're going to talk about controlling the pet population."

So, I talk about that for a while, and even the people that were laughing earlier are looking at me like I'm insane. Not because my ideas suck, (I did talk to a lot of advisers beforehand.) but because I started talking about it like I never shot myself in the head.

"There you have it, not giving little mittens a shot will get you thrown in jail, but I guess that's more of a health issue than the population issue we were talking about earlier. And again, other nations' needs will be evaluated on an individual basis. No one panic. This only applies to America."

I jumped ahead with the population issue so it takes me a minute to remember what else I wanted to talk about. I've already been on air for more than an hour, and I doubt people are still tuning in. I don't think about that very long. Someone is bound to post the whole thing on YouTube.

"Okay, I know some of you are thinking that you're all going to become slaves to a police state, and any chance at progress is going to be shot down by your new evil over lord. I wanted to wear a cape and a gas mask to kind of mock this idea, but they wouldn't let me. Apparently, they felt that wouldn't be very professional, but since I just shot myself in the head, I think professionalism went out the window. Dave, put the Imperial march from Star Wars on for all these lovely people to hear."

This turns out to be a very simple request. The music starts playing, and Dave even comes out and hands me the cape and gas mask. Someone is getting a promotion. I put them on, and I can see the anchor lady face palm in the background.

"Say hi to Dave everybody."

Dave waves shyly and leaves fairly quickly. Maybe, a background position then. He doesn't seem to be very good with people. The music gets me into the spirit of things, and I laugh manically for no good reason. The anchor lady throws her shoe at me and reminds me I'm still on the air. The music ends.

"Anyway, we are actually looking to fill a lot of positions, especially in the sciences. Please visit the link below to check available job offers."

And, I glance back at the crew to make sure that there is actually a link being shown to the viewers at home. Dave gives me a thumbs up, and I decide to take his word for it.

"Also, good news on the education front, universities will no longer be charging money to attend classes, and the vicious monopoly on text books is over. North Korea will now be handling their production and any new edition will need to be reviewed to see if any actual new content has been added before they are released into the market."

They're skeptical. I can hear the naysayers already. I can also hear some university heads panicking. There are many other people happy in spite of everything else they just witnessed. Good, if they are divided, they won't be so quick to turn against me.

"In case you're wondering how I'm going to pull this off, I'm the freaking United States of America. I'm kinda all the authority you have left so comply or be shut down. Remember, money is a moot point now. I'll be setting all the prices."

That reminds them of a whole other issue. They're afraid. Quite a few of them don't believe I'm America, and that I'm just saying I am to gain power. Several others think said power has corrupted me. A bunch of teenage girls think I make a hot Darth Vader, but that is besides the point.

"There is also the matter of destroyed property and lost funds. I'm going to tell you now. I have too much to worry about to bother giving you everything you might have had before. Everyone will receive housing, and you will be allowed to keep what you managed to save but that's it. If you wish to get more credits for purchasing more goods, there will be ways to earn credits from the government such as recycling and voting in elections. That's right. We're still having those."

My head is starting to get overwhelmed by the speculation and worry. I take a deep breath which doesn't quite relax me in the gas mask and keep going. I'll figure it out. Give me time, people.

" This place is huge. Did you really think that I was going to run it all by myself?"

I know no one is going to answer me, but I take a look at everyone's faces. They're pretending to smile, but it looks so horribly fake. Just you wait, I'll make sure everyone is happy.

"Now, I'm sure you've all noticed the lack of good things to watch on TV. Trust me, I like TV as much as any of you. In fact, that's exactly why I like TV. Therefore, we will be putting a ridiculous amount of effort to get more shows on the air. Officially, there will be a reality TV channel, a cartoon channel, news channel, and live action channel. We may branch of from there, but for now, that's what were sticking with. Shows that get to stay on air will be decided by popular vote, and there will also be a petition system if you feel a show has been unfairly taken of the air, etc. There will be more information on this and how to get a job at these TV stations online."

The kids seemed to like the idea. Well, the ones that still have access to a TV or the internet anyway. Funny, I was just getting to that.

"Besides restoring the TV networks, we will be attempting to launch free wi-fi everywhere. This of course will come after the whole rebuilding houses and roads thing, but it will be something for you to look forward to."

I look at the clock. I've been talking for three hours. Bleh, I think they get the idea.

" I'll let you get back to Sponge Bob which oddly enoughis the only other thing that hasn't been taken off the air. That's Nickelodeon for you folks. And remember, if you stab your neighbor, I'll know. So, please don't make me have to get rid of your silverware too."

A lot of people crowd around me, and all I really want is some time to myself. I pay the people I promised to pay, and give directions to a safe house until I can get them a decent place to live. The anchor lady tries to argue with me, but I threaten to fire her, and she backs down.

For the next few days, I fill out a lot of paperwork, and meet with a lot of people. It is tiring, but all the bureaucracy aside, the voices are starting to quiet down. And, I'm so relieved that I can think properly again. The peaceful thrumming in the background is replaced by a warning bell one day. I get up and stretch, thankful for the change of pace. Someone else is in Japan's house other than Taiwan, and that is a big no no.

* * *

Getting to Japan is surprisingly simple. Since America has shown such a definite interest in England, I had no trouble exchanging the notes for a plane ticket. Notes and dollars seem to be the preferred method of payment in the current siege like environment.

The flight itself is grueling. Twelve hours is a long time, and the reading material I bought in the airport isn't enough to keep me entertained. I feel the need to move and stretch. This is almost impossible. The seating arrangements are designed to make the airport more money and keep people on the lower rung of the ladder cramped. America didn't give me enough money for first class so I have to deal with the close quarters.

All I can do is think, and maybe, go to the bathroom after I eat the questionable airplane food. I'm sure I'll be too starved to care how it taste. The flying blob thing is chattering above me, and I'm heavily questioning why I took its advice in the first place. If it's a figment of my imagination, I'm going into a more expensive area which is less likely to accept notes as payment for no reason, not that I have much left after buying a plane ticket.

Even if by some miracle this thing is real and knows what it is talking about, would it really be so easy to see Japan? Unhinged America seems extraordinarily possessive and paranoid. He'll realize I'm there the minute I get on the property. Still, I have no other options unless I decide to abandon England and return to France. The situation there is only marginally better than elsewhere. America has taken it upon himself to torture my poor country. The martial law there has kept things in order, but the smallest thing can also land a person in jail. Still, if my place hasn't been seized by some wayward family, it is my home and my memories of England are only there to manipulate me into playing America's game. I technically don't have to save him or anyone else, not really.

I'm also not so loved or notable enough to be hunted down as mercilessly as Amy is. While my resemblance to Elizabeth might amuse him and in some ways, he finds me clever, there is a chance he'll let me be. As long as I don't cross the line and openly defy him anymore than I have, he might forget me.

And yet, I have wasted all my money flying to Japan because some bunny cherub told me he could help. I am so out of my mind that I wonder why my family never put me in an insane asylum. In no way is this a rational or advisable plan and I know it. This makes the long flight worse on me. I'm just going to keep berating myself until I have an emotional breakdown at this rate.

"Elly? Elly? Are you listening? It is very important you explain yourself quickly. Otherwise, Kiku will turn you over to America faster than you can say sushi."

That gets my attention. So, Japan isn't even on my side. There is maybe a one percent chance he will help me if I can get the right words out. Perfect, since I've always been such a _marvelous_ speaker, that shouldn't be a problem. Never mind the fact, I could end up back in America's custody faster than I arrived. I'm doomed, and this glorified stuffed animal is only expediting my demise.

"Then, why are we even going to Japan? What can he possibly do for us?"

The rabbit makes an o shape with his mouth and shakes his head.

"Nothing. It's what you can do for him."

Wait. I'm doing someone a favor? Then, how am I supposed to get around after this or escape if America randomly decides he wants to play hide and seek? The stupid rabbit has sent me on a fool's errand.

"I'm no position to be doing anyone any favors. I need help."

The bunny's ear go flat and the rubs his paws together before speaking.

"Well, he needs you to deliver a communication device to England. He already managed to give them to some of the other countries before America put him under house arrest, but he didn't give one to England in time. You'd help Arthur right? He said you were nice."

Why did he have to say it that way? I shouldn't let sentiment get the better of me, but I suppose since I'm already here that I might as well go through with it.

"I'll help, but I'm going to need some money."

Mint Bunny nods and takes out a bag of gold. I'm not kidding. The bunny actually had a bag of gold this whole time.

"Is this enough?"

I nod, not wanting to take advantage of his obliviousness. This is the king of cash right now with the queen being silver and the prince being precious gems. Their scarcity pretty much guarantees I can buy anything I need.

"Okay, let me know if you need anything else."

There is the matter of America potentially hunting me down when I return to England. I don't think flying bunny could honestly help me with that, but it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"America can track me down really easily once I return to England. Can you make it so he can't find me?"

Flying mint bunny's eyes dilate, and he shakes his head.

"That's a very special gift. I can't give it to just anyone."

My pride gets the better of me. What makes me so unworthy? I'm risking my hide to help these nations who are starting to resemble the Greek gods in their hubris and vanity.

"I am special."

The bunny strokes his chin and scrutinizes me.

"You're arrogant."

"You're green."

This confuses the rabbit, and he tilts his head to the side.

"I guess you're right. Everyone has flaws."

I'm not sure how he reached that conclusion, but I'll take it. I nod enthusiastically.

"Okay, you officially have no nationality. The earth is your domain. "

I can't help but be disappointed. That's it? Would that really stop America from finding me in his own (forcibly acquired) domain?

"How does that help me?"

The bunny sits on my shoulder and points to the sky.

"The world is big. He can't control everything, and if you don't identify with any nation, he'll have trouble placing you."

He has a point, but is it really so easy to declare myself independent of everything? I look around me. No one pays me any attention. Someone tries to sit on me. To my increasingly alarm, he is successful. The person passes right through me, and I get up frantically.

"Oh yeah, there may be some side affects." the bunny declares cheerfully.

Needless to say, I panic. Flying mint bunny has made me a specter, and I am going to make him pay for it. The bunny shields his face, and his open terror is enough to make me back down.

"How could you do this to me? I need Japan to be able to see me, and I also need to be able to pick stuff up, stupid."

The bunny shakes his head.

"It's only temporary. This power is only to be used in emergencies. America can't see spirits, or at least, he couldn't before. He can now, but he really has to focus. I'm easier to spot because he knows me. "

Sure enough, the person soon realizes that I am there and apologizes for taking my seat. I don't say a word. I am too preoccupied with this new development.

"Relax, you'll get the hang of it, but I should warn you some creatures have trouble controlling the whole invisibility aspect. Kumajiro always regretted blessing Canada this way. It's more trouble than it's worth now that he's all grown up."

Seems more like a curse, honestly, but I don't yell at the bunny, this time. I did ask for some way to get off America's radar, and this is perfect for that. I'll deal with the drawbacks so long as it keeps me safe.

"Thank you, I'll do my best to control it. Now, How do I do that exactly?"

"Try not to think about it or get nervous, those are the two things that trigger it most."

Easier said than done, I turn invisible two more times during the plane ride. Once, when the food finally comes, I'm not exactly thrilled to be passed over by the food cart, but I wasn't exactly looking forward to airplane food anyway. And, a second time when the plane lands when I almost ended up staying on the plane after dosing off. This is turning out to be a rotten day indeed.

"Okay, we're off the plane. How do we get to Japan's house?"

The bunny circles me, happy to have such a large expanse to stretch his wings. He turns to me and shrugs.

"Don't know. The palace is somewhere in the sky. It moves around a lot."

He has to be kidding me? After all that, we aren't going to find Japan after all? I'm so tired. Maybe, I should find a place to rest first?

"How do you expect me to find a palace in the sky? I don't care what England says I'm not a miracle worker."

The bunny laughs at me. I narrow my eyes. The stupid thing is mocking me.

"It's not really in the sky silly. America just makes it look like it is. The palace will be somewhere in the mountains."

"But you don't know where?"

The bunny shrugs again.

"I'll look around. I won't be back for a few hours. " Right, just a few hours, I can take care of myself for a few hours. I'm sure a magical flying bunny is more than capable of finding Japan on his own, or at least, that is what I keep telling myself as he flies away.

Flying mint bunny lied to me. I shouldn't have let him leave on his own. I haven't see him in days. On the bright side, having a bag of gold has done wonders for my life on the run, I've been staying at a nice hotel and have pretty much spent all my time there. I don't want draw attention to myself so I've only left my hotel in short spurts to gather supplies. I will eventually be on the run again, and I have remember that at all times. I don't want to be caught off guard when the time comes.

Strangely enough, the time to re ensue my mission comes sooner than expected. Flying mint bunny unceremoniously plops onto the bed, panting heavily one day without warning. Too bad, I was in the middle of reading a book left over from my airport reading material. It was just getting good. I was honestly starting to think he wouldn't be coming back. I poke him, and his wings twitches.

"Hi, I'm flying mint bunny."

"I already know that."

The bunny is sweating a lot and stains the beige sheets. The long trip must have taken its toll.

"Here have a water bottle."

The bunny drinks out of it like a baby bottle, consuming the whole thing in minutes.

"Ah, that's the stuff."

He simply lays there, stomach up for while. I clear my throat to get his attention. Flying mint bunny's wings twitch a second time and his ears perk up.

"Oh, you want to know where Japan is."

I nod, watching as the little winged rabbit turns over so he is on his hindquarters. He takes something out of his pocket. Wait. Since when did he have pockets? He holds the star wand in his teeth and looks up at me.

"I know where to go, all you have to do is get us there."

I take the thing which resembles a child's toy more than anything and flick my wrist. And just like that, we are in Japan's house. The place is nearly empty except for a desk with a computer on top and two mats. Japan has the physique and characteristics of what most people picture when thinking of a Japanese man. He has brown eyes, short black hair and a suit. The man, previously busy playing the Shamisen, grows pale.

"Oh dear, Taiwan were you expecting company?"

The girl has long black hair and is dressed in a lovely pink kimono which contrasts starkly with Japan's attire. Headphone in her ears, she doesn't seem to hear him and continue jamming out to some Korean pop music on the computer. Japan sighs and addresses me.

"You should go. No one is welcome here."

He doesn't seem all that willingly to turn me in to the authorities at least. I answer, trying to explain as much as I can with as little words as possible.

"I am here to help you. England sent me. He said you had something for him."

Japan seems surprised by my answer. I am immediately shoved into a closet I failed to notice earlier. I don't protest as I already have an idea of what is going on. I open the door a crack, so I can see. Japan's double doors fly open. America comes in looking positively overcome with delight. There's a bounce to his step , and as usual, he looks genuinely happy to be there, regardless of what his true intentions might be. I have a sinking feeling that they might just involve me.

"Japan, long time, no see, I seriously forgot you were up here. So, what's it like living in the clouds?"

Eyes downcast, Japan answers, practically shivering.

"Cold."

A look of pity crosses Alfred's face. America conjures a blanket although it takes him a few snaps to get it right for whatever reason. He seems as puzzled by that as I am. After a second, he shrugs it off and wraps the blanket he conjured around Japan's shoulders.

"Better?"

Japan nods, holding the blanket tightly. America turns his attention to Taiwan who is listening to her music much more quietly now that Alfred has stopped by. He takes one of her earbuds out and listens in.

"Catchy, but that's not all you're doing is it?"

Taiwan flinches, and America gingerly takes the mouse away from her and looks at the files on her computer. I can't see the documents from where I am, but Taiwan's shaking makes me think that whatever it is is going to get her a one way trip to Siberia.

"Let's see. This email says everything is ready for tonight. America hasn't been paying much attention lately. Hmm . . . "

Taiwan's cheeks are flushed, more from humiliation than anything. America pats her head. This only makes her tense up more. Japan can only watch in horror as Taiwan becomes the target of America's animosity. I'm sure now that Taiwan isn't the one who originally planned the meeting.

"You're right. I haven't been paying much attention to you lately. I should fix that."

He snaps his fingers, and Taiwan is out cold. There is a little ominous buzzing sound coming from her, and if I squint, I can tell her eyes are now giant black swirls against a white backdrop.

Taiwan appears on the computer screen, looking terrified. She presses her face against the screen, pleading with her eyes to be let out. America clicks the play button, and Taiwan starts dancing against her own volition.

"That should keep you busy for a while. Have fun dancing," he says.

I suck in a breath, more than a little concerned. She's even smiling against her will. The only thing running through my head after that is that I don't want to get caught. Please, don't let me get caught. America walks over to Japan. He's frowning and looking directly at the computer screen.

"She didn't do anything I didn't tell her to do."

America nods and snaps his fingers. Japan winces anticipating punishment. He stands there in shock, and I'm openly gaping too. The once empty room is filled with video games and anime memorabilia.

"I'll let her out later. Why don't you play a game?"

Alfred leads the man deep into the mesh of video systems to one in particular. This one is different than the others. For one thing, this is not a commercial game as it has a picture of Japan on the side and is called Kiku's place. This is not what alarms me. What alarms me is that Japan sits down and allows America to strap him in because he is curious, even after what he saw happen to Taiwan. I can't make myself leave the closet. I don't want to end up like them or even Amy. I'm selfish like that. It's not like anything I could do would help anyway.

America puts the helmet on Japan's head and turns the game on. There is no immediate signs of mental strife when Japan starts playing, but that can't be right? Is America actually doing something nice? America looks around once Japan is officially distracted.

"I know you're here. Come out."

I don't leave the closet. I'll get discovered soon enough. He heads straight for the closet and opens the door as soon as he sees it ajar. America looks right at me, and then, starts haphazardly throwing out Japan and Taiwan's clothes. His hand even goes through my chest several times without him ever seeing me. I sigh in relief. Mint bunny's trick is saving my ass.

"Japan is there someone else here with you besides Taiwan?"

Kiku doesn't answer. America's own ploy is working against him. Alfred scowls but leaves him be. I risk getting out of the closet. He looks right at me before, shaking his head and walking away. Yes, I'm going to get away with coming here. Unfortunately, America has noticed flying mint bunny and grabs him.

"So, you're the culprit. Tell me, what did Arthur want to say to Kiku?"

The bunny shakes his head. America jabs him, and he squeals. When that doesn't work, America tickles him repeatedly. Finally, the bunny gives in. I take the wand out and prepare to flee.

"Nothing, Arthur didn't send me. I came here on my own."

America stops tickling the creature and raises an eyebrow.

"And, why would you want to do that?"

The bunny's ears go flat, and he looks right at me. I shoot him a look. The green thing better not betray me.

"I get lonely."

America's suspicions cease, and he lets the creature go. Flying mint bunny flies around him, happy to be free.

"Give me a heads up next time you go to other countries so I don't have to drop in okay?"

The bunny nods and flies off, looking back at me apologetically. I'm left to my own devices. I decide to wait America out. He has to leave sometime. Woefully unaware of my existence, he walks through me. His aura is . . . rather dark.

America takes the helmet off Japan's head. The man looks dazed, and his strapped hand is subtly reaching for the helmet.

"I need to collect a thousand more acorns to level up."

America puts a hand on Japan's shoulder, oddly smug.

"Of course, you do, and then, you need to defeat Ozar, the dragon, a thousand more times for the achievement. I'm just letting you know that I'm heading out."

Japan nods, and America puts the game control helmet back on. He doesn't even ask Alfred to unstrap him before he goes. Worse than that, he doesn't tell America to fix Taiwan. America simply leaves the mess he created behind, and now, it's up to me to figure it out. I try taking the head phones off Taiwan first. She's still in a trance, and her image is still dancing on the compute screen. I put the head phones back on and press exit on the key board. The girl wakes up with a start and nearly falls off the swivel chair. She rubs her head and looks up at me.

"Who are you?"

I guess if I want this to go smoothly I'll have to associate myself with Arthur. Otherwise, she's unlikely to trust a stranger like me. The girl is going through her files, slowly but surely freaking out.

"Crap, he destroyed all the plans, and I don't . . . remember what they were," she says, blinking slowly.

"Who are you, again?"

I should probably answer, or she'll keep on asking.

"I'm Elly, a friend of England's. He said you had something for him?"

She immediately gets up and searches the clothes on the floor for one of her kimonos. It's a nice black and white kimono with stitched lilies. Some of the stitches appears to have come undone though.

"He said he could fix the stitching on this one," she says, handing the kimono to me.

"That's nice. I think he meant the communication device."

Her eyes widen as it dawns on her, and she takes something out of the desk. It's a small silver bracelet with a speaker and a red button. She gives me that too. Finally, she notices what has happened to Japan.

"Oh darn, it's another game full of pointless menial tasks ," she says with a sigh. Taiwan goes over to Japan and takes off the helmet and the restraints.

"I-I-I was playing," he says, trying to take the helmet back. Taiwan hits him with it.

"No, you're pushing the same stupid buttons over and over so America can keep you out of the way. This girl is going to give the communication device to Arthur. We're switching to plan B."

Japan rubs his head and gives her an annoyed look before replying.

"Arthur has to agree to help, and I'm not sure he will, even if he can help us."

Taiwan stomps her foot. Japan takes a step back. I stand there awkwardly with the kimono and the communication device, wondering if I should leave.

"England has to help, or he's just as screwed as the rest of us. Don't tell me he still cares about that ingrate?"

Japan sighs again, looking particularly gloomy when he steps out of the machine. He takes the helmet from Taiwan and sets it down on the chair.

"The thing is if he succeeds, it will leave Alfred vulnerable, and there is no guarantee the other countries will go easy on him. If he fails, Arthur will end up being one of Alfred's play things. I believe America calls it being stuck between a rock and a hard place. "

Taiwan pouts, turning off the computer. And, I have to wonder if England even knows what he's supposed to do.

"What is the plan exactly?"

They both look at me as if they'd forgotten I was there. He smiles but its thin and eventually devolves into a frown.

"The plan is very simple. We've noticed that when Alfred is at Arthur's his control over reality slips, he gets distracted. The other countries and I feel that if Arthur were to indulge him for a while, he would lose control long enough for the imprisoned countries to escape and for us to retaliate effectively."

I smile because that's exactly what I thought Arthur should do. I look at the silver bracelet. What do they need this for exactly? Japan notices me eyeing it.

"We need him to tell us if something goes wrong so we can disband if possible before he finds out what we've done."

"And what do you plan to do exactly?"

Kiku smiles, for real this time. He takes out a small Canadian flag from a drawer in his desk.

"We're going to free Canada. "

* * *

___**Elly is French. **_Annie is American. Amelia was actually born in Canada before her parents moved to America. Lisa was born in in England, but eventually moved to America after going there to study. The idea was that they were born in places where their originally countries would be unlikely to come across them so they could live normal lives. Since America snapped, that didn't really work out. The joke is that they would be born in the country their previous country disliked the most (other than the Canada example. Amelia just really wanted to come back, and chose to reincarnate in Canada as that was her easier way back inside the Unites States.)


	6. Believe

Wish

I'm starting to feel trapped. It's like the voices I hear are on mute, but I can still hear their stifled cries underneath the faint static. The only way I can keep them that way is to constantly fix every little thing that comes up. I can't keep up. So, I'm slowly diverting my responsibilities elsewhere like I said I would. And, more and more, I'll go find Amelia or Arthur and play with them.

Except, England hides or refuses to respond to anything I do, and Amy (I mean Amelia. I get confused sometimes.) tries and often succeeds in manipulating me. I'm frustrated, and no outside party will satisfy me right now. One of them has to break, and I'll only manage that once all my energy is devoted to that particular task. Arthur has more patience than I do, and Amelia while easily toyed with has recently learned to fight back. England is watching TV right now or plotting my downfall for all I care. Amelia's the one I'm ticked at right now.

"Amelia, where are my freaking glasses?"

She comes downstairs in her usual jeans and shirt and shrugs. I'm ignored in favor of breakfast. Arthur doesn't say a word, but he's watching so some part of the conversation must have caught his interest. And, the fact that he keeps watching me so intently makes me realize something. England isn't above stealing my glasses either.

"Did you take them?"

He rolls his eyes and changes the channel. Ugh, why do they always ignore me? I give them everything they could possibly want. They can't hate me. Whatever, maybe, I'll just steal Annie back for a little while, at least she pretends to be nice. But, then, I hear Amy humming in the kitchen and change my mind. She always sings that little tune when she wants me to come to her. So, I go into the kitchen and hang by the door way. She looks up and smiles when she sees me.

"I made you some eggs and bacon."

This doesn't catch me by surprise anymore, but I'm still glad she made me breakfast. We eat in silence, and she's still humming that song. I want to cover her mouth and keep her from repeating the same notes over and over again. It's irritating, but I can't stop staring at her. Amy notices and stares back. The prolonged eye contact is starting to make me uncomfortable, even if she's a blurry image in my mind. Amy takes my hand and says something that makes me blush.

"You have nice eyes."

"Uh, thanks."

Just as quickly as our staring contest starts, she ends it, finishing her breakfast in one fell swoop before running away. I follow her even if I've barely touched any of the food. Half way up the stairs, I realize what she's doing and stop. Amy turns around and waves my glasses in front of me, darting away before I can snatch them. So, I chase her and willingly fall into her trap. Amy goes into my bedroom, and I figure that she's made a mistake and will double back. What I see when I open the door makes me freeze, there's candy all over the bed and cartoons on the TV. She's painted the walls sky blue and added puffy clouds to replace the chocolate brown color. The song she's constantly singing is playing on the radio, and she has opened the blinds to let in more light. Amy eats a Snickers bar full of nutty caramel goodness while holding up my glasses with one finger tauntingly.

I tackle her down and steal back my glasses. She shoves the remains of her candy bar into my mouth. I can't remember what I was about to say, and I'm not about to pass up free candy. I chew and swallow, ready to yell at her again. Amy stuffs another freaking candy in my mouth. She grins, obviously enjoying herself. After the third time she does this, I give up and lay down next to her. Without thinking, I take a piece of candy from the stack on the bed. She says something that I don't quite pick up. She says it again. Finally, she pressed her lips against mine. That gets my attention. Mmm . . .

"What?"

Her previous confidence vanishes. So, she does want something. Amelia turns off the radio and mutes the TV. I can still hear the sponge laughing obnoxiously.

"Al, have you thought about going home?"

Home. I haven't been there in a while, not since this whole mess started. I don't really want to go back. Even thinking about it fills me with a sense of dread, if I can hear them from across the ocean, odds are the voices will only get louder the closer I am to home. I was never supposed to hear them all at once in the first place. None of the other nations do. Which begs the question, what the hell is wrong with me?

"Oh, is that why you decided to make me a candy slave?"

No, I'm not going anywhere if I can help it, pretty girl or not. Amelia hits me on the shoulder and pouts. She hates it when I'm sarcastic. Actually, she hates a lot of things about me. The list is growing all the time.

"I'm serious."

I know you are sweetheart. You also don't have to deal with the messed up shit I do.

"I can't."

I'm hoping that will end the conversation. I'm not so lucky. She wraps her arms around me and put her chin on my shoulder. I like her, and she knows it. And lately, that love has turned into an ugly disadvantage.

"Why?"

"Because then the British man wins," I snap.

I don't want to be interrogated. I don' want to be played for a chump. And, I don't want to go home empty handed. Stupid British indomitable will . . .

"What does Arthur have to do with anything?"

Amelia had to get me started. She's going to regret asking.

"He-"

My cell phone rings. I recognize the number immediately.

"Hold on, I have to take this."

Matthew couldn't have escaped. He didn't even notice what I did to him before.

"Yes? What happened?"

The guard explains the situation, and I relax. Oh, he's just lonely.

"Really? He asked for me personally? Okay, I'll be right there. Bye."

I get up, grab some candies for the road, and stuff them in my pocket.

"Okay, I'm going home. You stay here."

Amelia looks insulted. I'm not sure why. It's what she wanted. She should be happy.

"So, you'll listen to a stranger and not me?"

Right, we're at a crossroads where she both wants to run away and be my confidant. I really hope she picks a side soon. It'll determine what I do with her. I don't want to punish her if there's a chance she'll stay willingly.

"Not exactly, I'm going to see Canada. I'll tell him you said hi."

That should clear things up. Her eyes widen, and she shuts up. Amelia's quite aware what's up with the Canada situation.

"Do you want me to pick up anything?"

I'm trying really hard to be nice. You catch more flies with honey and all that. She answers flatly.

"A soul."

Maybe, I just rub people the wrong way. I try not to let that get to me and remain nonchalant. If I piss her off now, I'll really have to charm my way into her good graces again instead of relying on my little mind tricks to make her forgive me.

"I mean from the store, maybe a museum if it's not in Italy. We made a deal," I offer.

Going all the way to a museum is a hassle but nothing shuts a girl up like jewelry.

"I want some pop rocks and soda."

I think I just fell for her all over again.

"Sure, I love mixing pop rocks and soda, maybe I'll get some for me."

She sticks another piece of chocolate in my mouth and whispers in my ear.

"I know you do. I thought we could try something later."

I laugh nervously. Briefly, I remember running into this girl at an old fifties diner. She blushed when I asked to sit next to her and offered to buy her another milk shake. What have I done to her? This doesn't feel right.

"I think I'm starting to warp you."

She raises an eyebrow.

"Starting?"

Maybe, I should let her go home. You won't. Don't even kid yourself. Now, go visit Canada before he throws another tantrum. You know what happened last time.

You're right. I should go. I break off a piece of the candy bar and swallow. It tastes like guilt. I don't stop smiling. She's not going anywhere, anyway.

"Point taken, I'll be back. Feel free to bug England or something."

She frowns, eyeing the door. No doubt, Amelia is thinking of Arthur downstairs.

"He's been talking to himself a lot."

I chuckle. Flying mint bunny probably came home. I doubt any of the faeries got loose. I can hear them a mile away. They sound like tiny jingle bells.

"Yeah, he does that."

Amelia doesn't believe me, but she's willing to let it go.

"If you say so."

No sense putting off my visit any longer. I'm sure they'll be fine without me for a few hours.

"See ya."

She's not even paying attention to me anymore. I'm only important when I can get her something she wants. I snap my fingers and in a blink of an eye I'm at a U.S. base. My brain goes into overdrive as a bunch of military secrets drown out the regular background noise. Yeah . . . it's great to be home.

"Hello sir, he's inside. "

I don't get a salute. Since the breakdown, things have gotten very casual. The people that stayed are the ones that already knew me as Alfred F. Jones. I don't know this one. He's not very old. They must be getting desperate.

"Thank you Captain."

I snap my fingers, and I'm inside. The funny thing about reality bubbles is that it doesn't take much to sustain them, but they're very simple and not very hard to break. The person has to want to stay inside. Matthew's little pocket of space is the most elaborate. It's basically the inside of his house. Since my brother is so intimately acquainted with this space, he hasn't questioned why he's there. I do run into small problems maintaining it when he wants to call someone up or go outside, like today. Matthew hasn't seen me yet. So, I wait for him to notice me.

Right now, he's still preoccupied trying to get the his cell phone to work. My brother can be an obsessive caller. He tries calling one, two, no . . . three more times before giving up. Matthew looks up from his cell phone ready to take his chances outside when he finally sees me. He smiles because he doesn't know I'm a total monster yet.

"Oh hey, I was just trying to call you. It's weird. I can't reach anyone, but I swear my cell phone was working two minutes ago."

I should probably mention that staying in the reality bubble too long can make a person's brain turn to mush. It's why my visits tend to be rather short, and why I generally don't send people inside one without making some initial changes first. The reality bubble can't destroy something that isn't there. Once in a while, they remember though. I promised to visit soon, and he tried to call. There's no reason to be nervous, but it scares the crap out of me when he pulls stuff like this. The last time he got out he was rather . . . angry for lack of a better word.

"Maybe, you need a new one."

It's actually made out of plastic. He can't tell anymore. When he presses one of the buttons, all it does is alert the military who he wants to contact.

"Yeah, I guess so. I'm just glad you stopped by. I know you've been feeling down."

That really shouldn't bother me, but it does. You'd think he'd forget. Whatever I was feeling before is a moot point now, I've already reacted in the worst way possible.

"We don't have to talk about that. You want a donut."

They get hungrier here for some reason. I'm pretty sure it has to do with the whole outside of time and space thing. Anyway, it's very easy to distract them with food. He takes one. Kumajiro ambushes me and takes the rest of the box, stupid bear.

"Sorry about that, he's been very restless lately. I can't get him to go outside."

The conversation was heading into very dangerous territory. So, I panic and redirect the conversation back to what we were talking about before.

"There was something you wanted to say to me?"

He's so engrossed in the donut that it takes him a minute to respond. From the look on his face, it's the same conversation we have every time I come here. I hate this part.

"Sit down, we need to talk."

"Could you rephrase that?"

Canada rolls his eyes, watching with morbid fascination as Kumajiro tears the donut box apart. The damn bear hasn't spoken in two weeks. The things is getting more feral by the day, but I can't risk separating them. The reality bubble works better in pairs, and if there is one thing you don't want to take from Canada, it's his bear.

Kumajiro licks his paws, stopping briefly to stare at me. He growls. Matthew tells him to shut up. The bear snorts and licks the icing from his teeth. No, I don't like that bear one bit.

"There wasn't anything you could have done. You have to accept that," he says quietly.

"There are a lot of things I couldn't do before. It doesn't matter now."

Canada is confused. I've already made a mistake. That's not what I normally say. I have to stay in character. Let's see. Where is that self inflicted guilt? I buried it somewhere. If a little flirting can wake up my conscience, a little digging should help me remember what I felt before so I sound less like a sociopath.

Ah, there it is. So, that's what sent me over the edge. I've done worse things since then.

"I mean, what sort of hero am I if I can't even protect my own people? And, it's not just this one time either, but it's the same stupid problem over and over again. "

Oh Roosevelt, I'm crying. Damn it. It's too much, stupid Canada. I don't want to remember. Why do you always remind me?

This is exactly what he wants to hear though. He puts a hand on my shoulder.

"That's why you talk about what happened and try to fix it. Just, please don't do anything rash. Remember, Rome wasn't built in a day as cheesy as that sounds."

"Yeah, but Rome was destroyed in a day. Oddly enough, D.C. took two days. Those army guys were pissed."

Whoops, Canada looks ready to flip out.

"What?"

I needed to back track quickly.

"Never mind, you want to watch some Hockey or some equally Canadian sport? The other one I remember is Curling I think?"

Please, don't let this be the one time he doesn't want to watch hockey. Matthew is understandably worried after I said that, not enough to suspect what is going on but enough to get I am not in my right mind. Luckily, he still thinks I'm Alfred from three weeks ago. That Alfred had morals.

"Promise me, you won't do anything stupid."

Ouch. This one is harder. I don't want to lie.

"I promise not to do anything stupid . . . anymore."

Why did I have to add that? He would have believed me. Canada narrows his eyes.

"What did you do?"

You know what? I'm going to tell him. Don't you dare. You're only hurting yourself if you tell him. Too late, I don't want to hide behind the lies. I want to stop hurting people I care about. Don't -

"I may have kidnaped some people. Burned someone at the stake. And, single handedly destroyed the economy out of spite."

I hand him his hockey stick and close my eyes, waiting for the impact. He . . . he doesn't hit me. He laughs because I have to be kidding about doing something like that.

"Hah, you're funny. Let's go watch some hockey."

You're right. I do feel worse. Told ya, you should listen to me more often.

"Yeah, I was . . . totally kidding."

The bear watches me, mocking me with its smug grin.

"Shut up bear, what do you know?" I yell before I can stop myself. Canada hears me.

"America, are you taunting Kumazeppo?"

I'm embarrassed. I doubt the bear is even a sentient creature anymore.

"No, and it's Kumajiro."

"I'm pretty sure it's Kumaecho."

"It's sad you don't know your own bear's name."

The conversation helps ease my nerves. I was so sure that this would all blow up in my face. Ever since I started hearing voices again, I've been feeling awful, like I want to be punished. I'm such a coward. Canada doesn't even realize what I am because I put him here. Of course, he wouldn't believe I would do stuff like that to people.

"Hey, that's not my fault. I didn't name him."

That's new. He never told me that.

"Who named him then?"

"I don't know, some guy. I can never remember his face. He was tall though. "

Weird, I would have thought he'd mention something like that sooner. We don't really talk about our childhoods much I guess.

"What was his name?"

He takes a while to respond.

"I don't know. It seemed impolite to ask after he game me a present and everything."

Tcht, Canadians.


End file.
